


jealous

by flowerkook



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, geralt in formal wear, geralt listens to your heart cliche, jaskier is there, queen calanthe's banquet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerkook/pseuds/flowerkook
Summary: "It was easy to find you, it always was. He’d joked that one of his ears was always listening for the distinct sound of your heartbeat, but it was less of a joke than he’d care to admit."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	jealous

Geralt felt distinctly out of place without his armor. His clothing was certainly appropriate for his begrudging attendance of Queen Calanthe’s banquet, and yet he still felt like he’d fit in better with at least his pauldrons strapped on.

Jaskier had no trouble blending in. Of course, he had slept with half of the guests present, and conversation flowed much smoother with no need for introductions. Geralt studied the bard out of the corner of his eye, keeping a watchful eye out for vengeful spouses. When none seemed to be nearby, he redirected his attention to the other side of the hall.

It was easy to find you, it always was. He’d joked that one of his ears was always listening for the distinct sound of your heartbeat, but it was less of a joke than he’d care to admit.

You didn’t just look like you belonged at the banquet, you looked like you could be the guest of honor. You stood with poise, a natural elegance that most could only hope to emulate. There was a flutter in Geralt’s chest and his lips threatened to tug into a smile just from observing your form. Though the feeling was immediately quashed when he noticed the man speaking to you.

He was handsome enough, but he was overbearing, leaning into you, head first. Geralt could see you leaning away by the arch of your back. The brightly colored silks of his clothing and his garish jewelry, coupled with the fact that he was young, indicated that he was here as one of Pavetta’s suitors. So why he was romancing you would be a complete mystery to the Witcher had you not been stealing breaths the moment you stepped into the banquet hall. Hell, you had knocked his breath out too. He was caught between convincing his brain to do anything but scrape his eyes up and down your body and calculating exactly how you had fit this getup in your tiny rucksack.

There was a tug in Geralt’s gut, one that was wholly new, but easy to place. He knew that logically he had no reason to feel jealous. You were clearly uncomfortable, he could tell from your posture. And your heartbeat was steady, so you couldn’t be enjoying this man’s advances too much. And yet there was a particular smile on your face, a smile that he could easily spot in between the guests mulling about from all the way across the room, no Witcher senses necessary. A smile that, until this exact moment, he had assumed was reserved only for himself.

Geralt felt silly about the way his jaw tightened and his inability to look away from the conversation occurring between the two of you. He considered focusing his senses to listen in, but a pang of guilt stopped him from following through.

It was almost a relief when you turned your head towards him, as if you sensed the anger creeping up his spine. The smile on your face remained unchanged. Geralt’s eyes glinted golden, reflecting every shiny piece of jewelry decorating the noble men and women in attendance. But with the look he was giving you, they may as well have consumed by darkness, those of a Witcher on the hunt. 

You said something to the man beside you and his face morphed into one of disappointment. In seconds more you slowly made your way across the banquet hall. Half the people you passed parted before you, taking the opportunity to gape. The other half, you stepped gracefully around, their conversations breaking abruptly as they noticed you.

Geralt mapped your path through the crowd with his eyes. The smile on your face never faltered

Then suddenly you were seated beside him. The sound of conversation in the hall quieted considerably as the guests took in the sight of you accompanied by the Witcher. And when they resumed their chatter and the volume rose again, you finally spoke to him.

“Are you enjoying the banquet?” you asked Geralt.

“Yes.” It was a lie. He was very much not enjoying sitting by himself, clutching a half empty goblet, darting his eyes back and forth between you and Jaskier. And he certainly wasn’t enjoying your smile directed at someone other than himself.

You hummed in acknowledgement, but you didn’t sound the least bit convinced of the Witcher’s answer.

“Is that why you’re staring at Jaskier like you want to murder him?” you ask. The bard’s back was thankfully turned, or Geralt would’ve been the recipient of a lecture from the smaller man about scaring off potential bed mates.

Geralt forcibly relaxed his gaze before swiveling his head to you. There was that smile again. Looking at it up close, Geralt felt something in his chest somewhere between relief and anger. He leaned into the anger without meaning to.

“You seemed to be enjoying the banquet plenty,” he said. Geralt winced at the malice coming from his own mouth, but you didn’t even waver. Your smile only grew in brightness. He would’ve been unnerved had he not been so enamored.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked. He meant for it to sound harsher, but you always did bring out the softest sides of him.

“You’re jealous,” you teased. The mirth was returning to his eyes, despite your accusation hitting its target perfectly.

He sighed. “Well how am I supposed to react when you smile like that,” he raises his eyebrows, “at someone else?”

You scooted closer to him until your hand could cover his on the table. You looked up at him. At this proximity, his fear inspiring golden eyes could only be described as loving.

“What happened to that ear you always keep on my pulse?” you asked, one eyebrow quirked questioningly.

“What about it?” he challenged, almost indignant.

“Well, what is it telling you now?”

Geralt took in a breath and willed himself to tune out the sounds of the banquet. Slowly the noises around him faded, conversation dimmed to a murmur like he was listening to them from underwater. And through the gentle noises, an unsteady thump made itself known to his ears.

It was faster than it was before, threatening to speed up even further. And your breath was stuttering. A look up at your eyes and your pupils were blown, black eclipsing the color of your irises.

And then he was back in the banquet, surrounded by noblemen and women, all vying for the same prize. And here he was with you. You with the loveliest smile he never felt like he deserved, heartbeat racing just for him, breaths jumping just for him.

Geralt’s lips lifted into a lopsided smirk and you looked almost shy for once. Then in a quiet voice you nearly split his heart in two. “You needn’t worry. My smile is my own, but my heart is yours to keep.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> come say hi @ rebelhan on tumblr


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